


More to Love

by Kirathaune



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9466730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirathaune/pseuds/Kirathaune
Summary: Goku’s been away for six months, and he comes back to find that there’s…more of Sanzo than he’s used to seeing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Carrotthelovemachine for the 2016 Yuletide_Smut fic exchange.

Goku adjusted the strap of his duffel as he trudged along the rutted, hilly road that led him back to Chang’an. The weight of the pack made the strap dig into his shoulder; not only did he have his clothes and gear in there, but the artifact that Sanzo had sent him to retrieve was solid gold and even though it wasn’t that big, it was heavy as hell.

It was creepy, too - its shape reminded Goku of the weird weapon that Kami-sama had used against them during their journey. As soon as he’d dug it out from the last pile of rubble in the remains of the ruined temple’s drum tower, he’d promptly wrapped it in one of his shirts and stuffed in the bottom of his duffel.

He didn’t think he wanted to keep the shirt.

Goku smiled when he crested the hill and Chang’an came into view. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the late afternoon sun, and his gaze sought out the red walls of Keiun Temple in the far corner of the city.

_Home._

_Sanzo._

Goku picked up his pace. This trip was the longest he’d been away, and the longest they’d been apart. Six whole months! He was proud that Sanzo trusted him enough to give him the assignment, but now that the weather was getting cooler he missed the warmth of their bed.

And no matter what the weather, he missed the warmth of Sanzo’s naked body beneath his.

The thought that he he would _finally_ get laid tonight made Goku smile wider and walk faster.

Some of the younger monks waved at him as he walked through the temple’s main gate, and as Goku waved back he thought about how different things were since he and Sanzo came back to Keiun. A few of the old monks still made prune-y faces at him and muttered things Goku decided he was better off not hearing, but on the whole he was treated with respect, and the young novices and acolytes practically worshiped him.

It’s funny how saving the world could change people’s opinions, he thought.

Goku went to their quarters first, succumbing to the overwhelming desire to wash the dust and grime of the road off his body. He tossed the duffel onto ‘his’ bed—the one they kept in a small alcove off to the side to keep the gossip down to a dull roar—and as he passed the bed he shared with Sanzo he unexpectedly tripped over something on the floor.

“What the hell?” Goku looked down and frowned at the multiple pairs of jeans that were strewn on the floor. It almost looked like they had been _thrown_ down, which was weird because while Sanzo was not Hakkai-level neat, he kept his things tidy and he bitched when Goku would leave things laying around. But nothing else was out of place, except for three, no, four pairs of jeans lying in a scattered heap on the woven rug that covered the room’s stone floor.

He washed quickly, and then he rummaged through the chest that stored his clothes, pulling out a pair of cargo pants and a long sleeved shirt. After he dressed he took the teeshirt-wrapped artifact and a small wooden box from the duffel and headed toward the temple’s kitchen.

  
* * *

  
“Hi, Chun Wei!” Goku said as he entered the temple’s main kitchen. “I’m back!”

“Buddha help us all,” the burly cook replied, not looking up from the pot he was scrubbing. “For the past six months my food orders were back to the way they had been before you and Genjyo Sanzo-sama returned last year.” He sighed. “Now I’ll have to double the orders again.” Then he looked up at Goku and grinned. “Welcome back, brat.”

Goku grinned back at him. “You know I’m the only one who really appreciates your cooking.”

“You certainly eat enough of it,” Chun Wei replied, and he wiped his hands on a towel and slung it over his shoulder as he walked over to the large table in the middle of the room. “Did you get them?”

“Yup!” Goku set the wood box on the table.

Chun Wei’s stubby fingers were surprisingly nimble as he lifted the hinged lid. “Oh, very nice,” he said, and he removed a dozen or so fat paper packets and spread them out on the table. “And you got the saffron!” he exclaimed as he lifted up a small glass tube filled with bright orange strands of spice. “Thank you so much, Goku, these are almost impossible to find in Chang’an. Were they expensive?”

Goku shook his head. “Nah, I bartered with the merchant for an afternoon of hauling crates and moving around stuff in her shop.” He tossed another, larger packet on the table. “I found this smoked green tea that I think Sanzo will really like—could you make some for me to take to him? And did he eat yet?”

“Of course,” Chun Wei said, and he busied himself with preparing the tea. “And no, Sanzo-sama has not eaten yet.” He side-eyed Goku. “I assume you are hungry. You are always hungry.”

Goku laughed and watched as the cook prepared their meal, and when Chun Wei slid the laden tray on the table, Goku frowned at the heaping mound of rice and snow peas that filled the smaller bowl. “Sanzo’s not going to eat all that, Chun Wei.”

The cook lifted a massive shoulder in a shrug. “He’s been eating that amount. His trays come back empty.”

“No way! I usually have to bully him to get him to eat even half.”

Chun Wei smiled. “Perhaps living in peace has reawakened Sanzo-sama’s appetite.” He nudged Goku with an elbow. “Perhaps he needed me to become head cook at Keiun. Wu Len was a _terrible_ cook.”

“Yeah, he was,” Goku agreed. “Although he was nice to me.”

“I can’t imagine a cook not liking you, Goku, although you make keeping a full pantry a challenge.” Chun Wei gathered up the spice packets. “Thanks again for getting the spices.”

Goku took the tray and made his way through the maze of hallways that led to Sanzo’s office. He knocked, because too many years of getting hit with the fan for not doing so had ingrained the courtesy, and when he heard a gruff “Yeah” he opened the door and went in.

Sanzo sat at his desk, his robes pooled around his waist, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Late afternoon light streamed in through the window next to Sanzo’s desk, painting the piles of paper and Sanzo’s robes in pinks and golds, and it made Sanzo’s hair shine in a way that made Goku’s chest go tight.

“Hi, Sanzo,” he said. As much as he wanted to, Goku did not go over and kiss him. That was one of the Rules.

Sanzo glanced up from the petition he’d been reading. “About damn time you got your sorry ass back here. What did you do, look under _every_ rock in that old temple?”

“Almost! That place was a mess.” Goku set the tray on the edge of the desk, and then he pulled the artifact out of one of his pants pockets and put it on top of a stack of petitions. “I finally found it, though. It’s creepy! It’s kind of like that thing Kami-sama used on us.”

“It’s actually the same weapon, just a different style.”

There was something different about Sanzo, Goku thought as he watched Sanzo unwrap the bundle. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Then Sanzo leaned back in his chair to study the weapon, and as he bent his head the fading light shimmered along the curve of his cheek.

Curve?

Goku blinked.

Sanzo’s face was fuller, his cheeks softly rounded in a way that made him look years younger.

Goku’s gaze traveled over a jawline that was no longer razor-sharp, and when he glanced at the close-fitting black silk of Sanzo’s under-garment, he was puzzled by the absence of jutting collarbones and ribs.

Sanzo shifted in the chair, and Goku gasped when the motion made the light play across more curves, this time at Sanzo’s waist.

“Sanzo!” he squeaked. “You gained weight!”

Sanzo scowled at him and pulled his robes over the bulges in question. “Yeah, what about it?”

“N-nothing, I guess it startled me because I haven’t see you in forever.” The pile of jeans in their room suddenly made sense; Sanzo’s weight must have gotten to the point where the pants didn’t fit, and he probably got mad and tossed them on the floor.

Goku’s own pants felt a little tighter when he realized that Sanzo probably had nothing on under his robes.

Sanzo’s attention turned to the tray. “What’s that smoky smell?”

“I found this cool tea for you to try,” Goku said, and he poured Sanzo a cup.

Sanzo sipped at the tea, and then nodded. “Not bad.”He opened one of the desk drawers, removed a flask, and then he poured a bit of whiskey into the cup and sipped again. “You did good, monkey.”

Goku smiled. “I thought you’d like it, it reminded me of you. Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

While they ate, Goku told him about the search for the artifact, and the not-fun time he had moving all of the rubble from the ruined drum tower. And, while they ate, he watched Sanzo actually _eating_ his meal, instead of pushing things around in the bowl like he usually did. He found himself sneaking glances at Sanzo’s face, fascinated by how a little chubbiness in his cheeks could make Sanzo look younger.

And cuter.

Maybe Chun Wei was right about the whole ‘living in peace’ thing.

By the time they finished their meal, it was dark outside, and Sanzo finished his tea while Goku put the empty (!) dishes back on the tray. “What are you going to do with that thing?” Goku asked, gesturing at the artifact.

“Disarm it, for one thing,” Sanzo said. He pointed at the ends. “It’s open—the tips of a vajra should meet in a point, like a raindrop, not splayed open like this. It needs to be closed, and then have all its _nen_ removed. It’s very dangerous in this state, which is why the Three Aspects wanted it found when the earthquake destroyed that old temple.” He took the weapon off his desk and locked it in a nearby cabinet. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” he said, and then he walked over to Goku and gripped Goku’s chin, briefly brushing his thumb across Goku’s lower lip.

He leaned in close and murmured, “Tonight I’m more interested in getting fucked. Let’s go.”

  
* * *

  
There were no Rules in their quarters.

Well, there was one. Goku waited impatiently while Sanzo removed the two scriptures from his shoulders, rolled them up, and set them on the ornately carved holder that sat on a small table in their sitting room.

But as soon as Sanzo’s fingers left the Seiten scripture in its cradle, Goku pounced, pushing Sanzo against the nearest wall and taking his mouth in a ravenous kiss.

“Took you fucking long enough to get back,” Sanzo growled against his throat when they stopped kissing long enough to catch their breaths. “Six months? Moron.”

“I missed you, too,” Goku said, “so much.” He tugged at the sash at Sanzo’s waist. “I want to see what’s under your robes. I want to see what you look like.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Sanzo said, but he allowed Goku to pull the cream-colored robes off him.

Goku was right; Sanzo wore nothing but the black silks, and Goku dropped to his knees to lavish some attention on a jutting erection while he pushed Sanzo’s top up above his waist. “Look at you, you’re not bony any more,” he murmured, pressing his mouth against a barely-visible hipbone. He kissed his way across a rounded belly—stopping to delve his tongue into Sanzo’s navel—and then he licked at the traces of the other hipbone before he returned to sucking some more on Sanzo’s dick.

He felt Sanzo’s hands in his hair, and Sanzo’s harsh breaths echoing in the room. He let his hands wander, gently squeezing Sanzo’s belly and waist, before sliding around to cup an ass that had new, delicious curves. He dipped his fingers between those curves, teasing at Sanzo’s hole.

Sanzo yanked Goku’s hair, hard, pulling his head back and away from his dick. “Bed. Now.”

Goku shimmied out of his clothes and watched shamelessly while Sanzo pulled off his silk top and arm covers, letting his gaze wander over the fuller, softer body that was revealed. Sanzo looked back at him, over a bare shoulder, an unspoken challenge in his expression.

But behind the defiance, Goku caught the barest hint of uncertainty in Sanzo’s eyes.

“You look amazing,” Goku said, and meant it. “I can’t wait to fuck you.” He meant that, too.

Sanzo rolled his eyes. “Then stop talking about it and do it.”

Goku laughed and pounced again, this time pushing Sanzo onto the bed. The next few minutes were lost in a haze of kissing, licking, biting, and digging in the drawer for the lube. Then more kissing, some stroking, and soon Goku was between Sanzo’s legs, pushing inside, moving with slow, deep thrusts while he tried desperately to not come too soon.

As if guessing his thoughts, Sanzo reached up and pinched one of his nipples. “Don’t you dare come yet,” he said, his gasping breaths taking some of the sting out of the threat.

“Don’t you come either,” Goku retorted.

“Says the idiot who was just sucking my dick.”

“Says the idiot who wants to keep fucking you.” Goku saw a smirk curve Sanzo’s mouth, and for a little while he lost himself in the way that smirk looked on fuller cheeks, which were now pink with their exertions. “You feel so good.”

It was true—while Goku would never, ever complain about any facet of his intimacy with Sanzo, it felt more than a little wonderful to have _more_ of Sanzo beneath his hands and body. Sanzo didn’t seem as fragile now, and it made Goku move with a rough abandon that was rewarded with the delicious sound of Sanzo’s moans of pleasure.

Neither one of them was going to last much longer; Goku could feel the pre-come leaking from Sanzo’s dick as it bumped against his belly, and Sanzo’s eyes were starting to get that unfocused look that meant he was on the edge. He bit his lip, trying to keep his own climax at bay for just a little while, for just a few more deep thrusts, to hear a few more moans.

Moments later, Sanzo arched beneath him and came, and Goku joined him almost immediately, bucking his hips and letting the pleasure course through him as he rode out one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever had. When Goku came back to himself, Sanzo’s legs were still wrapped around his waist, and as Goku felt the muscles in Sanzo’s thighs trembling against his hips, he wondered if Sanzo’s experience had been the same as his. He dipped his head and kissed Sanzo deeply, their panting breaths mingling as their tongues lazily touched.

He carefully eased out and began to lap up the milky-white spend that was spattered across Sanzo’s chest and stomach, giving extra attention to places that had brand-new, extra padding.

“So, the jeans don’t fit any more, huh?” he murmured against the smooth skin that now obscured Sanzo’s ribs.

Sanzo smacked the back of his head. “Smartass.”

“I came here first to wash up, and I tripped over them,” Goku said, moving his attention to Sanzo’s soft, round belly. “I was wondering what made you so mad that you had thrown them all over the place.”

“Stupid fucking jeans.”

Goku smiled against Sanzo’s skin. “We’ll just get ones in the next size,” he said. “Or you can just keep wearing nothing… I don’t mind that at all.” It would definitely let the lunchtime quickies be more about fucking and less about getting clothes off.

And maybe, one day, Sanzo would relax the No Funny Business In My Office rule and let Goku fuck him on his desk. Or maybe blow him under the desk. Nothing on under the robes would definitely make that easier. The thought of having Sanzo bent over stacks of petitions, robes hiked up while Goku fucked him from behind made Goku groan into Sanzo’s stomach.

Sanzo hit him on the head again. “We’re not fucking in my office.”

How did he know? “But—”

“No. There’s no lock, and if I put one on everyone will know why.”

In Goku’s opinion, half the fun of fucking in Sanzo’s office would be the possibility of getting caught. That, and having Sanzo bent over the desk, especially now that Sanzo had a great ass. He groaned again.

“I said no, you little pervert.”

Goku rested his head on Sanzo’s stomach, breathing in the scent of come that still lingered on Sanzo’s skin, and feeling Sanzo’s pulse thump against his cheek. He thought again about what Chun Wei had said, about living in peace, and he realized that they _were_ living in peace. They’d spent years on the road, crowded in the Jeep by day, and a different room—if they were lucky—every night. Add to that the constant possibility of attack, and the constant uncertainty of what was to come.

And Sanzo, Goku thought, had lived on stress and vengeance ever since his master’s death.

Now his master’s scripture was back where it belonged, and their victory had given Sanzo vengeance. And now, they spent their days working at the temple, and their nights sharing the same bed every night. Goku would gladly take all the extra weight in the world for Sanzo to experience a fraction of the contentment that Goku now felt.

Besides, it was actually pretty damn sexy to have some extra bits to squeeze.

“Get off, you’re heavy.”

Some things never change, Goku thought, chuckling as he rolled off. He went to the bathroom for a quick wash-up and when he came back, his breath caught at the sight of Sanzo sprawled on his stomach on their bed, his legs tangled in the sheets and that magnificent ass on full display. Sanzo would always be a hard person, but his body wasn’t hard any more. It was soft and plump now, and Goku found that infinitely arousing.

He slipped back into bed and pulled Sanzo to him, so that Sanzo’s back was against his chest, and he tugged the covers over them.

“You’re pretty bold, monkey. You know I don’t like cuddling.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Goku said, running a possessive hand over Sanzo’s belly, groaning as he squeezed extra flesh that hadn’t been there the last time they’d slept together. “You’re so sexy like this,” he whispered against the back of Sanzo’s neck. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Idiot.”

But there was amusement in Sanzo’s voice, and Goku smiled when he felt Sanzo relax against him. “We don’t need a lock,” Goku murmured, brushing his lips along Sanzo’s shoulder, “we can just stick one of those cabinets against the door.” He licked Sanzo’s earlobe. “It would be fun to suck you off under your desk.”

“You are a persistent, horny little shit,” Sanzo said, poking him with a not-so-bony elbow. “Go to sleep.”

Progress, Goku thought, as he drifted off to sleep. That wasn’t a No.

_-fin-_


End file.
